Cassandra Austin

by Trusting Sarah

  “Well now, if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.”

  Sarah almost dropped the crust she had been trying to turn into the pie plate. She spun around to face the man who had sneaked up behind her. With sudden certainty, she knew Nathan had been sent to lure Rice away.

  Bull was leering at her. “And cooks, too! Now ain’t that fine? What you makin’ there, honey?”

  Sarah wanted to demand that he leave, but she was too terrified to speak. She had been uncomfortable around him before, but this time they were alone.

  “Aren’t you glad to see me?” He took a step closer.

  Sarah told herself he wouldn’t dare touch her, but the look on his face made her uncertain. She had laid out a knife to trim the crust, and she glanced toward it involuntarily.

  She saw Bull’s eyes dart to it, as well. His smile was repulsive. “You don’t need to worry, honey. I’m not going to hurt you. I just thought we could get to know each other.”

  Sarah watched him, afraid to look away. She knew she was acting like a fool; he hadn’t said or done anything threatening. She tried to force herself to relax.

  “You’re shore quiet.” He eased toward her again, and she drew away. “I like the quiet ones.”

  “So do I.” Sarah jumped and looked past Bull as he spun around to confront the new arrival. The glare on River’s face was more threatening than Bull’s had been.

  River watched Gaines look him over and knew he was being measured for a fight. He did some measuring of his own. Bull Gaines was a bully. Though he was shorter than River, he was probably stronger. However, just glaring at him was enough to make him back down. River was sure Gaines would want to pick the time and place that would work best to his advantage. He wouldn’t want to depend on a fair fight.

  “I was just havin’ a talk with the lady. Didn’t know you’d already staked a claim.”

  “Now you know,” River said with a thin smile.

  “No hard feelin’s, then?”

  River did not respond.

  Bull glanced back at Sarah once, tipping his hat. “Ma’am,” he said, and walked away.

  He had disappeared around a wagon before River turned his attention back to Sarah. She was trembling. All he had to do was open his arms, and she ran into them.

  Sarah pressed her forehead against the soft leather of River’s jacket and closed her eyes. “I don’t like that man,” she murmured.

  “I’m glad.” River wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

  Sarah was afraid she would start to cry and knew she was overreacting. She thought she ought to explain. “He scares me,” she whispered.

  River pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “I know.”

  Sarah felt herself beginning to relax within the warm embrace. She knew it was time to pull away, but she wanted to linger. She spoke again, prolonging the rare feeling of finding comfort in his arms. “I’m sorry he came back to our train.”

  “Right this minute, I’m kinda glad.”

  “What?” Sarah lifted her head, but River’s arms kept her from even trying to pull away.

  He smiled down at her. “I couldn’t have planned this better myself.” He lowered his head to claim a slow and gentle kiss.

  Sarah was sure River’s arms were all that kept her from dissolving into a puddle at his feet. Something in the pit of her stomach seemed to flutter to life as he molded her body more snugly against his. His lips moved over hers, enticing them open, and she tried to lift herself upward to meet the kiss.

  A small sound behind her startled her. She and River were locked in a very intimate embrace in broad daylight where anyone could see them! She tried to pull free of River’s arms, but he released her reluctantly, keeping one arm around her waist.

  Eli was working diligently with the neglected piecrust. River and Sarah watched him ignore them. Sarah felt she should explain herself, but her head was whirling in crazy circles, and she had no idea what she should say. After a moment, the old man started to whistle.

  “Could you keep that down?” River said. “We’re busy here.”

  Eli laughed without looking up from his work.

  River started to draw Sarah back into his arms. “Daniel!” she scolded in surprise. She knew her face was burning, and she didn’t dare look either Eli or River in the eye.

  River chuckled softly and whispered, “Later,” next to her ear. With a soft kiss on her temple, he walked away.

  Sarah watched him go with a mixture of longing and embarrassment, and a remnant of the earlier fear. She gave herself a moment before she took a step toward Eli. “Bull Gaines used his friend and nephew to get me alone.”

  Eli glanced at Sarah. “Well, that Herman fella’s silly yammerin’ is finally makin’ some sense. Gaines didn’t count on River, though, did he?” Sarah blushed, and Eli laughed, then he went on. “Rice’s off with the nephew, then?”

  Sarah nodded. “They went to the von Schiller wagon.”

  “Rice’ll be all right.” Eli peered at Sarah. “You all right?” At her nod he went back to his work. “Wish I could say the same for this pie.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sarah stood beside the left rear ox as she had seen Rice do and tried not to worry. She didn’t like being responsible for the team even when they were standing still with the wagon brake set. Rice had assured her all she had to do was stand back and watch.

  In reality, it wasn’t the wagon that had her worried or even the tall cattle beside her. It was River. He was wading across the South Platte with an armload of willow branches.

  Earlier, River had directed Rice to pull his wagon out of line, explaining it would be the last to cross. Rice had left her in charge of it and had gone to help River cut branches from the willow trees near the river. Sarah wondered idly how many travelers would do the same before all the willows finally died.

  Now, River was sticking the branches into the sandy bottom to mark the crossing. Rice had told her the river wasn’t more than two feet deep even if it was nearly a half mile across. Rice and Eli were collecting chains and ropes to fasten the wagons together, and Sarah stood out of the way and watched River.

  She expected him to disappear at any moment, sucked into the quicksand Rice had talked about. She knew both men would have laughed at her fears. The moving sand on the bottom of the river didn’t really work that way. Rice had explained that a drop from a firm surface to a soft one would jar the wagon and perhaps break an axle or wheel or even tip a wagon on its side. River’s willow flags were meant to help them avoid the worst of these places.

  The wagons would be fastened together to keep them moving. It wasn’t safe to stop on the unstable sand. The horses would be ridden across ahead of the wagons to pack the bottom. All the stock were to be watered so they wouldn’t be tempted to stop and drink halfway across.

  “Mules are the worst,” Rice had said. “They won’t even try to get themselves out of quicksand. They’ll just sink right in till they drown.”

  Sarah had laughed at the time, having been reminded of Eli’s scorn for mules, but now the picture made her worry more about River. Every time she saw him pause for a moment, she imagined he was sinking into the sand.

  “Ya gonna keep him from drownin’ by starin’ at him?”

  Eli’s voice made Sarah jump. She had to blink twice before her eyes could focus on him, having stared too long at the sun-reflecting water. Eli continued, “He’ll be fine without ya levitatin’ him up till he walks on the water.” He fluttered his hands toward the water like a conjurer and chuckled even though she didn’t. “I come to get the team to take ‘em to water.”

  Eli began unhitching the oxen, and Sarah tried to help him while she continued to watch River. The water came barely up to his knees, and he was approaching the middle of the river. “Rice told me the women will walk across instead of ride in the wagons,” she said.

  “I reckon. It helps pack the sand for the wagon wheels.” Eli came out from between the oxen and grinned. “E
specially someone like Prudence.”

  The joke helped Sarah keep her voice steady in spite of her growing fears. “Is that what River wants me to do?”

  Eli was quiet, and Sarah wasn’t sure he was going to answer. Finally he asked, “You scared of water, too?”

  Sarah had to smile. “No. I guess that’s one thing I’m not scared of. I was just thinking about...”

  Her voice trailed off, and Eli grunted. “About them other women and how they like to treat ya? Well, I don’t think that’s what River’s got in mind, anyhow.”

  Sarah glanced at him curiously then paled. “I’m not ready to drive the team across something like this!”

  Eli let out a hearty laugh. “Not likely.”

  Sarah sighed with relief and laughed, too. Eli led the team away from the wagon, chuckling occasionally as he went. As Sarah listened to him, her relief turned into annoyance. She wasn’t that bad with the team, was she? He still hadn’t told her what River did have in mind. Probably just to ride in the wagon beside Rice.

  Rice had talked with a certain amount of excitement about how a wagon would tip over once in a while, spoiling possessions and sometimes causing a family to lose everything. He hadn’t mentioned drownings. “I’ll probably be the first,” she mumbled, and scolded herself. She would talk herself into being afraid of water if she wasn’t careful.

  After a few minutes, Rice brought the team of oxen and rehitched them. He helped Sarah onto the seat and moved the wagon into line with the rest.

  When he jumped down to chain the wagon to the one ahead, Sarah realized the wagons blocked her view and she couldn’t watch River anymore. She started to climb down from the wagon, needing to know he was all right.

  “River says you’re supposed to wait here,” Rice said.

  “I won’t go far,” she assured him. She walked away from the train until she could see River again. He was nearly at the opposite shore, and it was a minute before she realized he was now moving toward their side of the river.

  Rice was jogging toward the bank. She saw him mount River’s pinto and ride into the shallow water. Sarah divided her attention between Rice, as the pinto splashed along the trail of willow branches, and River, as he made his way more slowly toward him. She sighed with relief when they met and River swung himself up behind Rice, only to gasp audibly a moment later when the pinto stumbled.

  But the pinto recovered quickly and, in a short time, was plunging up the muddy bank onto dry land. They stopped for a moment at the group assembled on the shore. She could imagine River giving them last-minute instructions and knew it was time for her to get back onto the wagon seat. It was hard to pull herself away, however. She had been so worried about River that she wanted to assure herself he was all right.

  Rice turned the horse and put him at a canter toward the end of the train. She walked slowly to the wagon as she watched them, smiling at the look of excitement on Rice’s young face.

  He pulled the pinto to a stop next to her and slid to the ground. “I’ll see you later,” he said as he walked past her to the wagon.

  It took Sarah a second to realize he had been talking to her. River had moved into the saddle and was grinning down at her. He leaned toward her, offering her his arm. “Put your foot in the stirrup,” he instructed.

  Sarah hesitated a moment, then hiked up her skirt and did as he said. She grabbed his arm, and he pulled her up behind him. She tried to arrange her skirts into a semblance of modesty but failed.

  “Hang on,” he said, turning the pinto toward the river. Sarah wrapped her arms securely around his waist, expecting him to kick the horse into the pace he and Rice had set.

  By the time they had walked slowly past two wagons, Sarah realized this was as fast as River intended to go. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m taking you across the river. Any objections?”

  “No, I mean, why are we going so slow?”

  River laughed. “I can show you off to these folks better this way.”

  The driver of each wagon was watching her ride past with her skirts hiked up almost to her knees. She tried again to pull them down, but that seemed to make matters worse.

  “Will you hold on?” River scolded. “I could go faster if you held on.”

  Sarah nearly sputtered in exasperation. “I was holding on, and we were just... Never mind. Is this better?” She slid her arms around his waist again until they nearly met.

  “This is.” He pulled her tighter against him until she could clasp her own wrists. Her body was pressed against his broad back. His right hand caressed the back of hers.

  “Daniel, this isn’t...” She tried to pull away, but he kicked the pinto, and they sprang forward. All she could do was cling to him or fall. The wagons seemed to fly past, and in no time they were pulling up beside the group that waited at the bank. Sarah had to struggle to catch her breath.

  “Horses first,” River said. “You ladies on foot follow, then the Gaines team before the first wagon. Water’s not deep. Just follow the flags and keep moving.”

  Before River reined the pinto into the water, Sarah caught a glimpse of Prudence Carroll gaping at her. She wanted to tell the woman to close her mouth before she caught a fly. She muffled a giggle against River’s back.

  “What’s funny?” River let the horse pick its way along the line of willow branches.

  “Mrs. Carroll,” she said softly. “I think we’ve shocked her.”

  “Good for us.”

  Sarah rested her cheek against River’s buckskin-covered back and enjoyed the ride. Mostly the pinto walked sedately through the water, but occasionally, when he stepped onto the softer sand, he plunged forward in order to get a more solid footing. As a result, Sarah had to cling tightly to River, not that she wanted to loosen her hold. She couldn’t think of a more pleasant way to cross the South Platte.

  River pressed his palm against Sarah’s hand at his waist. He traced the fine bones and slender fingers with his thumb. He hadn’t really intended this to be an announcement to the train, but he didn’t regret that interpretation. It had seemed like the safest way to get her across. He didn’t think he could have watched her cross in Rice’s wagon or even Eli’s. He would have spent the entire crossing worrying about her. This way, she would be safe on solid ground, and he could keep his mind on the rest of the train.

  The north shore came too soon for Sarah. It seemed they had barely begun before the pinto was struggling up the slippery bank. River reined to a stop well away from the river and helped her slide to the ground.

  “I have to see to the others,” he said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Just wait here for Rice. Eli won’t be able to stop until all the wagons are across.” River looked back. The first of the horsemen were just coming up the bank; the few women on foot were well behind. There were no signs of trouble.

  He turned to Sarah, still smiling up at him, and bent to touch her face. She moved closer, and he kissed her quickly before putting spurs to the pinto.

  Sarah touched her fingers to her lips as she watched him go. The five horses were all out of the water by the time River reached them. She could see that most of the children were on horseback. One of the von Schiller girls rode her father’s horse while the other was on Rice’s black. Each had a Williams boy in front of her. The reverend’s wife rode her husband’s horse with their little girl while Mrs. Hess led the horse her five-year-old son rode.

  Sarah searched quickly for Amy, discovering her still in the water with her mother and the other three women. She seemed very small with the water coming nearly to her waist. Martha was too far along in her pregnancy to carry her, and the other three women were old. Sarah wondered if the child wouldn’t have been safer in a wagon.

  The women on horseback had ridden where River had directed and were dismounting. One lone rider headed toward her. Bull Gaines. He had left it to his partner and nephew to lead his oxen and had ridden across in comfort.

&nbs
p; She felt a pang of guilt; she had done the same. She should have walked across and let Amy ride with River. She watched the little girl struggle through the water while Gaines’s oxen slowly narrowed the space between them.

  “Pretty day, ain’t it?”

  Bull had dismounted nearby, but she kept her eyes on Amy. “Yes, it is,” she answered politely.

  “The ladies was all abuzz back there, seein’ you with that River fella. Seems I wasn’t the only one didn’t know he was your man.”

  Sarah chose neither to look at Bull nor to answer him. She caught her breath as Amy slipped and went under for a moment. Martha helped her to her feet and urged her on.

  “Well now,” Bull said. “Maybe you’re not so happy to have them sayin’ it, after all. You and me could make them forget that gossip and start some of our own.”

  Sarah was barely listening to Bull. She watched River reach the group of women and bend over the side of the pinto. In a moment, little Amy was in front of him, and he was headed back to shore.

  Sarah let out a sigh of relief.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  The triumphant ring in Bull’s voice brought Sarah around. Too late, she understood what he was saying. She shook her head, backing away, but his strong fingers closed around her arm. She tried to wrench herself free, but he pulled her against him. She struck out blindly, pushing and scratching at his face, while the blood pounding in her ears nearly drowned out the terrible sound of his laughter.

  For a moment Sarah thought she had screamed. The voice had been a child’s, and Bull pushed her away. River, one arm around a frightened Amy, glared down at Bull from the pinto’s back. “I thought you understood. Sarah’s mine.”

  Amy was crying and reached out to Sarah. She stepped forward, and River released the little girl into Sarah’s hands without looking away from Bull. Sarah crumpled to her knees as she set the child on the ground. Amy’s clothes were soaked and Sarah wrapped her arms around the shivering child.

  Bull glared up at River. “I haven’t heard nothing like that from the little gal here.”